An Untold Story
by GigglesandShizz
Summary: Over the years Maryse had learned that hearts are breakable, and the ones you love are often the ones who cause you the most pain. In a world full of demons and angels, who can really be trusted? The untold story of Maryse Trueblood through her years at school in Alicante, her time in the circle, her marriage, her children, her exile, and the events of The Mortal Instruments.
1. Chapter 1: The First Betrayal

Chapter** 1: The First Betrayal** **  
**  
(1978)

They were sat around dining room table, her mother and father at opposite ends with Maryse in the middle eating spoonful's of ice-cream, pretending that she could keep up with the adult conversations going on around her. The sound of the doorbell stopped her father mid-sentence. With a heavy sigh her mother pushed away from the table to answer the door, cursing quietly in French.  
"Maybe it's a suitor?" Her father joked and winked. Maryse smiled, rolled her eyes and was about to take another spoonful of ice-cream when the sudden appearance of someone in the doorway made the spoon freeze half-way into her mouth. She didn't recognise the stranger - a man with cropped yellow hair and wide spaced grey eyes – but her father definitely did, she could tell by the way he was looking at the man.  
"Inquisitor Thrushcross? What do you want?" He began to rise slowly from the table as her mother appeared by the man's shoulders, looking much paler than she had 5 minutes ago.  
The man shuffled a little uncomfortably on his feet and glanced around the room, his eyes travelling over Maryse; over the abandoned food at the table; over the photographs of the family that decorated the walls; and finally on her father's face.  
"I'm sorry for disrupting your meal…"  
"No you're not." Her mother snapped quietly but it was enough for everyone in the room to hear. Thrushcross' muscles stiffened in their place. and he took in a deep breath, but rather than turning around and facing the woman who had insulted him his eyes stayed locked on her father's.  
"Perhaps this conversation would be better without the ladies present." Her mother looked ready to explode at that, but her father spoke quickly and confidently before she could.  
"I think that's an excellent idea, Mildred would you mind taking Maryse upstairs?" Taking a deep, calming breath in, her mother turned from the Inquisitor to Maryse.  
"Come along darling, it's almost your bed time." Maryse was going to argue that it was in fact a whole hour away from her bedtime; but the tension in the room and the look in her mother's eyes told her that, for once in her life, she should be silent.  
So that's what she did. She took her mother's hand silently, allowed herself to be silently lead up the stairs, and silently let her mother tuck her into the sheets. Although she had not felt tired a few minutes ago, now cuddled into her sheets, with her mother's soft hand running through her hair, and her sweet singing filling up her ears Maryse felt her eyelids grow heavy…

The moment that she awoke Maryse could hear the raised voices drifting into her room from downstairs through the cracks in the floor. As quietly as possible - avoiding the floorboard in the middle of her room that creaked loudly enough to wake the whole neighborhood- she crept her way into the hallway and lent her head against the banisters to listen in on her parent's conversation.  
"Does he have _any_ idea what this will do to the family? Our name will be_ dirt_!" She heard her father yell. Although she couldn't see him, she could picture his arms waving around in the air like he was a crazed octopus, as they always did when he grew angry or frustrated.  
"We'll go to him tomorrow, if we persuade him to tell The Clave it was a mistake then they might let him off with a warning." Her mother tried to pacify.  
"What a stupid boy!" Her father carried on. "What an imbecile, letting himself be led on by a stupid Mundane. I'll bet she fluttered her eyelashes, pursed her lips like a little slut, and he was running around after her like a dribbling dog."  
"He's clever; he loves Shadowhunting he won't give in so easily." Her mother said and then there was silence, Maryse assumed they were hugging or kissing or something equally as mushy.  
"Let's go to bed, get an early start. We'll head for Idris first thing tomorrow." At the sound of her parents heading up the stairs Maryse jumped back into her own room and slid under the covers of her bed just as her parents opened the door to check on her. With her eyes slammed shut she couldn't see what they were doing but she could hear them whispering something as they closed her door again.

The next morning was chaos, which started with a hurried breakfast as her parents had brief, snappy conversations with each other. Then there was travelling to Idris on horseback (which left Maryse sore all over), followed by portaling to a large mundane city which Maryse hadn't bothered to learn the name of. She'd never been outside Alicante before and she clung tightly to her mother's hand the entire time; even though she knew she was too old for it. The city was big and tall and loud. It was nothing like Idris. On the way her mother had explained that her brother, Maxwell, was in trouble and they were going to help him out. She wasn't sure of much outside of that, or why he was in trouble.  
They stopped outside a large apartment block and her father pressed the buzzer to the flat they were heading to. There were a few moments of silence and he looked doubtfully back at her mother about to suggest that they come back later, when a slightly agitated voice spoke out from the buzzer and asked them to come up.  
The man who answered the door was the most peculiar man Maryse had ever seen. He was wearing a knee length emerald green kimono and, as far as she could tell, he wasn't wearing anything underneath. His hair was ruffled and flying all around his head in a thick, back, halo. Maryse had never seen a man wearing so much eyeliner before, in-fact she had never seen anyone wearing that much eyeliner before. He was tall too, taller than anyone she had ever met, and Maryse had to tip her chin high into the air to look up at him; but it wasn't his height that scared her. It was his bright green cat eyes. Warlock. She took a step back to be closer to her father.  
"Haven't Shadowhunters ever heard of sleep?" He demanded angrily. Her father raised an eyebrow.  
"It's almost one o'clock in the afternoon." He pointed out.  
"I could have slipped at least another few hours in." The Warlock said stepping aside and letting them into his apartment. It had a large living space filled with an assortment of chairs and sofas from all different periods of history, she was pretty sure one of them was a throne, but didn't have the nerve to ask.  
Maxwell jumped from the couch he was sitting on when he saw them enter and took a step forward as if he had planned to pull them all into a hug, but upon seeing the expression on his parents' faces the blood drained from his face.  
"Mum…dad...I…" Her father held up a hand to stop him from talking. Max's black hair was a complete mess and there were dark circles under his brown eyes. Maryse hoped he wasn't getting sick, that was the last thing he needed if he was about to go before The Clave and hold The Mortal Sword.  
"Is there somewhere we can talk with him?" Her father asked. The Warlock nodded and pointed towards a door on the far right.  
"My study." Her father nodded and headed straight for the room. Her mother was a bit more hesitant, reaching first towards her son, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and then following her husband.  
"Could you watch Maryse?" She called over her shoulder, much to both Maryse and the Warlock's horror.  
"Hang on…" The Warlock tried to argue but the door slammed shut. Huffing Maryse took a step towards the door but apparently the Warlock had a change of a heart. He placed a hand on her shoulder and pulled her back.  
"Time to let the adults talk kiddo."  
"I'm almost an adult," She informed him. "Only 8 more years." He chuckled at that and slumped down on the couch which her brother had occupied a few moments ago.  
"That's almost as long as you've been alive already."  
"How do you know how long I've been alive?" The Warlock tapped his nose and winked. She huffed and sat down next to him.  
"Why is Max staying with you? I thought he was in trouble, shouldn't he be in prison or something?"  
"Luckily for your brother, the Clave didn't want to put him in the Silent City until they have all the evidence."  
"Yeah, how nice of them," She paused. "I'm Maryse."  
"Magnus," The Warlock told her lazily, running a hand through his hair and groaning. "I hate getting involved with Shadowhunters and your affairs."  
Frowning Maryse sat forward. "Well I don't like Warlocks either. If you don't want to do it why are you?"  
"The Clave pays well." A silence passed between the two of them as Maryse nervously wiped her hands on her trousers.  
"What's eating you?" Magnus asked.  
"Do you think Max will have his marks stripped?" She asked him, hoping he would give her the honest answer that her parents had danced around all day.  
"I don't know."  
"What did he do wrong?"  
"He was caught having a relationship with someone the Clave doesn't like."  
"What will happen now?"  
"He'll have to choose, the Clave and his family, or the girl."  
"You…you think he'll choose the Clave?" For the first time since she'd arrived Magnus gave her a sympathetic look, though she wasn't sure she wanted it.  
"I think he'll choose what makes him happy, and that is all we can ask of love." Magnus answered somewhat quietly.  
"I love him." Maryse whispered and before Magnus could reply the tell-tale sounds of angry yelling echoed from underneath the study door. Maryse jumped to her feet and, ignoring the Warlock's sounds of protest, ran towards the door. She easily pulled it open because nobody had bothered to rune it shut; well that was their own fault.  
Her father and brother were stood, forehead to forehead in the center of the room. Both of their faces were bright red and their jaws were clenched. Her mother was against one wall with silent tears falling down her face. They all turned to look as she stepped in. The men in the middle relaxed their angry postures and her mother tried to wipe away the tears. It took her all of 5 seconds to figure out what was going on.  
"You're choosing her! The Mundane!" Maryse yelled feeling her anger boiling up.  
"Maryse…" Her mother tried to place an arm around her but she pushed her off. Max smiled sadly back at her.  
"I'm choosing love." Was his reply.  
"Don't you love us?" Maryse cried. He hung his head and looked down at his own feet in reply.  
"I'm going to plead guilty at the trial and have my marks stripped. Nothing you can say will change my mind."  
"Do you have any idea what this will do to the family?" Her father yelled but Maryse was already out the door. She knew she should have hugged him, gripped him tight and spent the last few minutes she had with him telling him how much she loved him, but a larger part of her couldn't stand to look at him for a second longer.


	2. Chapter 2: Sip of Posion

**Chapter 2: Sip of Poison**

(1983 - January)

Cursing and Wincing Maryse pulled the stele away from her skin and glanced down at her arm. She'd let her mind get distracted and left the stele on one area of skin for too long. The rune had sunk and burnt deep into the skin causing an angry red swelling. She cursed and slammed the stele into the ground, running an irritated hand through her hair. She knew she should probably try and iratze the burn, but she was struggling to find a point. The burn would scar. An iratze would scar. It didn't really matter what she did. She'd managed to escape the dining hall, she couldn't stand it in there with the loud conversations, and jokes, and remarks they thought she couldn't hear. It was all just so pathetic, and Maryse was above all of that. It was easier to just come out here and try to relax than to slap someone around the face and be called to the Headmasters office.

Sliding the stele into her pocket she blew against the burn as though it were a hot coffee she was trying to cool.  
The presence of a sudden shadow blocking out the sun made her head jolt up and glance at who had dared to come near her.  
Her eyes widened in surprise, she'd been expecting anybody. Anybody except him.  
Valentine Morgenstern was in the year below her and even though he was only 14 everybody knew who he was.  
He was good looking, with his high cheek bones, platinum blond hair, and deep brown eyes; but it wasn't just his looks that drew girls towards him like moths to a flame.  
He slid against the wall and sat down next to her but didn't say anything so she cleared her throat and spoke instead.  
"If you're here to tell me…"  
"I'm not. I just thought you'd like someone to talk to."  
"And why in the name of the Angel would you want to do that? You've never said two words to me before."  
Valentine glanced at her arm which she had placed in her lap. He tilted his head towards the burn.  
"Aren't you going to fix that?" Maryse shook her head.  
"It's fine. It doesn't even hurt." But Valentine had already picked up her arm with one hand and his stele with another. She felt the familiar pain of the rune being carved into her skin but she dare not look down. Instead she kept her gaze firmly fixed on Valentine, she watched the concentration in his face, the muscles around his lips that twitched, the two little lines that appeared between his eyebrows. His hand was rough from training with swords and ropes and bows all day long, and yet his touch was still a comfort.  
"A Rune is a medal of honor; an ugly scar is just that. An ugly scar. If you have a choice, always go for the medal." He told her and looked up from her arm. The pain had vanished and the skin was knitting itself back into place, the iratze slowly fading. "I'm not like them, Maryse. I've seen what you can do with a sword in your hand; I've seen the way you make yourself look so dignified around those pieces of filth who think they're superior. You are a Shadowhunter, a soldier of Raziel. You are not a traitor like your brother."  
Maryse wanted to argue, scream at him that her brother wasn't a traitor; he had just fallen in love, and there was nothing wrong with loving who you wanted…but the words died before they even made it to her throat because she knew that she didn't even believe them herself. What was it they always said? 'Blood is thicker than water'?_ Except if the water is a pretty little Mundie._ She thought bitterly.  
"What he did was wrong. But it's the Clave who've damned us, the Truebloods. They're the ones who spread the word, told people to stay away from us as if we had some kind of disease." Valentine nodded in agreement.  
"The Clave are stuck in their old ways. They're old fashioned; haven't moved out of the 1870's; they don't trust their own kind; don't give us any information, and still expect us to run around like ants doing their dirty work." He paused and tilted his head to look at her straight in the eye. "When ants first head out to collect food they're a mess, all of them running around searching without any system until one of them finds something. He releases a chemical and the others all begin to follow his lead. Blindly. They don't even question it. If you put a blockage in their way the leader will change direction and the others will all follow. You could lead them straight into the burning reflection of a magnifying glass and they would all set themselves on fire. All because they trusted their leader."

"This is Maryse Trueblood," Valentine had a hand on her shoulder as he pushed her towards the group of students sitting in the shade of a large tree. They all swiveled their heads away from what they were doing to look around at her; there must have been at least ten in total. "I hope none of you mind but I invited her to sit with us today." The group watched silently as she sat down on the grass next to the only person in the group she recognized, a girl from her classes, Naomi Whitelaw. Once he saw that she was settled Valentine placed himself down in between a boy with scruffy brown hair, and a girl with eyes the colour of the grass beneath them. They went around the circle and introduced themselves: Lucian, Jocelyn, Naomi, Hodge, Michael, Robert, Jia, George, and Patrick.  
Maryse was surprised to see that nobody seemed that interested in gawping at her as she had expected them to. Most eyes seemed to land on Valentine.  
She watched as Valentine began talking about reforming the Clave; of starting a new age of Shadowhunters. This little band of misfit toys who had been pushed out by their peers for not conforming with the Clave's ideal Shadowhunter. "Well one day we will _be _the Clave."  
He spoke, with such passion and belief in his eyes that it was all too easy to drink in. Maryse hardly even listened to the words, just watched his hands gestures, watched his body leaning forwards into the circle so that everybody could hear him, watched his black eyes glisten.  
"Why are they allowing our race to die out? There are millions of Mundanes uselessly polluting the earth just waiting for the chance to reach their full potential. So what if there are a few casualties along the way; aren't there always? We should use the gift that the angel has given us, not hide it away for use on special occasions." Everyone nodded in agreement at what he had said, Maryse just as enthusiastically as the rest of them. What he was saying was blasphemy; he wanted to go against the Clave, to go against the people she had been told were good, and yet…

Up in the school buildings the bell went to signal the start of curfew. Valentine finished what he was saying and stretched out his back as he stood up. Everyone began to follow his lead and soon the group was chattering among themselves as they headed back to the school buildings. Lucian turned to Jocelyn and placed a hand on her shoulder, and Michael Wayland began talking animatedly to Robert who laughed at whatever joke he had told. Naomi smiled at Maryse and then headed hurriedly back towards the school.  
"Maryse?" Her head snapped at the delicate, lightly accented voice next to her. It was one of the other girls, Jia. She was in Maryse's year at school but was at least a head shorter. She had a very round face and long black hair which was wrapped up on top of her head. She wasn't exactly pretty, but she was hard to turn away from. "Don't worry, I won't bite." She assured and smiled. "I'm not a werewolf as far as I know."

For the first time since she had been sent to Alicante Maryse felt as if a large weight had been removed from her shoulders. She'd spent the last few weeks meeting with Valentine and his friends by the oak tree at the back of the school, determined to prove to him that he was right; she wasn't a stupid Mundie loving traitor like her brother.  
Most of the time they just exchanged stories, laughed, enjoyed each other's company, but every so often Valentine would get that burning look in his eyes and begin to rant and rave about the Clave, about the mortal cup, the missing mirror, and no-one minded. In fact, they encouraged it. They nodded and clapped and thanked Valentine for showing them things they couldn't see for themselves.

Walking out of Latin class Maryse felt somebody brush up beside her. Expecting Valentine she turned around with a smile on her lips which slowly dropped.  
"You're Maryse Trueblood?" Robert Lightwood asked.  
"Yes. But you knew that," She told him, a slight edge to her voice "So stop pretending to be the idiot we both know you aren't and tell me what you want."  
"I wanted to ask you on a date," Maryse shook her head as she began to walk away, but he continued to follow her. "I can see why you would be surprised…" Maryse halted suddenly in the hallway, her black hair whipping around her head at the sudden change in motion.  
"Excuse me?"  
"No I…I didn't mean it like that," He said, hurriedly trying to dig himself out of the grave he'd dug. "I meant because we haven't really talked much before, and this might seem a little…out of the blue." Behind her Maryse could hear someone giggling, and frustrated she turned around to see Michael Wayland clinging to the wall with a hand over his mouth to try and control his laughter.  
"Is this some kind of joke?" She asked and with a frown, and Robert turned to see what she was staring at.  
"Michael!"  
"I'm sorry…I'm sorry…but you're terrible at this…" Michael said, gasping for air. Huffing Robert turned back to Maryse, he was shorter than her, Maryse was surprised to notice, despite the fact that he was 3 years older.  
"Could we go somewhere a little more private?" He asked.  
"Do you think I'm stupid?"  
"No, no, I…I just want to get away from him," Robert tilted his head back to Michael and then indicated to the people who had stopped what they were doing to watch the scene. "And them." Rolling her eyes Maryse agreed after warning him she could slice off any limb in under a second. He led her out to the fields at the back of the school, to start with she thought he was going to take her to the familiar oak, but they went straight past it.  
"So," Robert said as they continued to walk. "Everybody knows how I met Valentine, how about you?"

It was true. Everybody knew about Robert Lightwood. Unlike most of Valentine's group Robert had a good Shadowhunter last name behind him. The Lightwood's were an old, well respected family. So when their eldest son had arrived and fainted at the touch of stele the whole school was alive with chatter. In fact it hadn't been until 3 years ago when he was 15 that he'd even received his first mark, and it wasn't exactly a secret that it had been down to Valentine and his help, despite the fact Valentine had himself only been a first year.

"I…it's not like I never had friends, because I did. I just never felt very comfortable around anyone, I could tell that through their smiles and their nice words they were judging me for something I didn't do. Valentine saw that, I guess. He's the first person ever not to label me as a 'Trueblood' or a 'girl' but as a Shadowhunter, and I liked that." She shrugged.  
"Responds well to being called a Shadowhunter, make no reference to her sex or last name, note taken, thanks." Maryse couldn't help but laugh and nudge him slightly.  
"Okay, you make jokes; I guess you're not a typical Lightwood. I'm sorry I judged you so quickly," Robert smiled and puffed his chest out a little in pride. "You're not out the woods yet mister." She reminded him.  
"You're amazing, Maryse," He said, seemingly out of nowhere. "You're smart, you're brave, and you're beautiful, and I know these things because ever since I first saw you open your mouth, and listened to what you had to say I haven't been able to stop listening, and I would find it humbling if you would agree to go on a date with me." She took a few seconds to think about it and then replied.  
"Okay, I'm going to consider your offer because of three things, and three things only. Before you ask one of them is not the mushy little speech you just gave. Firstly you made me laugh, and no-one has done that in a while. Secondly because I remember the Robert Lightwood who was 14 and still had no Marks, and I remember watching you with your chin held high, despite everything going on around you and I respect you for that. And thirdly, you put my intelligence first and not my looks."  
"So do I stand a good chance in the decision making process?"  
"A better chance than most, so don't screw it up."


End file.
